


saving grace

by ten_and_a_rose



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ten_and_a_rose/pseuds/ten_and_a_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>She had graceful eyes...</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	saving grace

**Author's Note:**

> Another writing for [timepetalsprompts](timepetalsprompts.tumblr.com), this one for the prompt "graceful."

She had graceful eyes.  

When she laughed they threw forth thousands of tiny starspecks.

Sometimes she gazed at him and they overflowed with a warmth too terrifying to name, yet still in secret he reveled in it, basked in it and craved only more.

Once  _for **him**  i want you safe she said_ those only human eyes had blazed so bright and hot it brought him to his knees before the infinite raw power of Time itself. She’d become grace of a second kind, and he gladly gave over his life for hers if only to see her smile once more.

When he changed her spirit faltered and he loathed himself as the cause of it. Then she took his hand again and he was like a man at once redeemed and condemned, circling ever closer to the elegant flame.  He found the courage to name the warmth in her eyes and was lost in them.

On a cold beach in Norway, even her tears were beautiful as they tore out what was left of him until he was hollow and dark and heavy with the weight of things unsaid.  And the second time was so much worse when all he could do was dare to hope that he’d left her with a version of himself who could rediscover grace and learn to be a better man.

He’d become some ridiculous mythological tragedy, Lord of Time hopelessly in love with a young human girl and destined to pay dearly for it.

His song was ending now, a melody that had always been wrapped in roses. He’d exhausted it, drawing it out until the last petal fell into the thin blanket of snow covering the Powell Estates and he could fight no longer.  He fell face first into the welcoming white and contemplated simply  _stopping_ , suppressing his regeneration to die as  _everything_   _must come to dust, all things…_

But then the Ood appeared, offering to sing him to sleep, and the music spurred him to his feet again and back into the Tardis.

He was not going to end, not going to die.  A new song would begin, born from the end of his, and it would still be his song. But there would be no more roses.

The glow was overtaking him, and he suddenly longed for only one thing, the one thing that would give him solace and the one thing he could not have.

As the world exploded from within him, all he wanted was the grace he only ever found in her eyes.


End file.
